Past The Point
by Chi Shiro
Summary: Bobby Drake meet Hank McCoy. Preslash.


Past The Point (Of No Return)

Chi Shiro

Pre-slash Hank/Bobby

Archive: FFN, WWOMB, anyone else just needs to let me know where it's going.

Marvel owns them, more's the pity. I'd be a hell of a lot nicer to them. No money exchanged hands for this work of fiction, so no need to sue.

I wrote this in 2002 or 2003 with every intention of turning it into a multi-chapter monster. I made it to three chapters before getting diverted and working on other projects. Looking back on it, this was for the best. I've taken the three chapters and merged them into one larger story. It works as it is. This is a new take on how Hank and Bobby could have met.

xXxXxXxXxX

Fear. Fear was an emotion he could deal with, after all everyone was afraid of something. Fear was a much better emotion than the guilt he had felt earlier. Even if the fear was mounting him and raping his mind. Destroying his dignity. He'd much rather be afraid than guilty.

Why should he feel guilty? It wasn't his fault he was a mutant, a freak, an abomination. And the cat had lived through being encased in a block of ice. Just barely, but his mother's champion Persian had lived. The cat hadn't even hissed at him when he went to pick it up to make sure there was no clinging ice.

And so what if he had shattered his mother's good China in an attempt to prove that the ice hadn't come from him. She had wanted proof her baby boy was one of them and she had gotten it.

One of them. Oh God in heaven. He was One Of Them. The fear returning full force using him like a cheap whore. He was One Of Them, capitalized, and his father hated Them. They caused problems and They were a threat to mankind and They were freaks of nature and his father repeatedly reminded him that They were demons and sinners in God's eyes. They were children of the devil for God would never create creatures like Them.

His father would kill him, he knew it. His father would take him to the woods where they went hunting and tell him it would be all right and then he would shoot him.

Just like their dog. There hadn't been anything wrong with the dog except for the fact it had green fur on its tail. But that proved that it was One Of Them too. And his father said they were doing it a favor because it couldn't live with itself being that different.

He could already feel it. He'd been shot before on accident when he was younger and one never quite forgot the eerie feeling of hot metal ripping its way into your body and tearing through your flesh. What if his father missed and he had to be shot a second time? Or what if he purposely wanted his son to die a slow death? Could he be a man about it or would he go running off to die alone like Frosty had?

He shivered and pulled the quilt tightly around himself. He was so cold, so very very cold. His entire body was cold and the cold wanted out. It wanted him to let it out like he had earlier when he'd frozen the cat and shattered the dishes with frozen daggers. The very blood in his veins felt like it was freezing.

He could hear the steps outside on the walk. The steps of a normal man coming home from his normal accounting job to his normal house on a normal suburban street where his normal wife would break the news to him that his son was anything but normal. He dreaded the sound of the key in the door. Any minute now his father was going to come rushing through his door and tell him they were going for a nice long drive in the country.

He could hear the shout and his mother's frantic sobs. So she had told him. The heavy footsteps were coming his way. This was it, he was done for. His life was about to be summed up in all of barely thirteen years.

But what if, maybe, he did it before his father could. He could encase himself in ice, like the cat, and just let the cold out and let it kill its host. His muscles relaxed and the cold seeped from his pores. He could feel it enshrouding him. Such a welcome feeling, like being held close to someone, or how a baby must feel when it's being rocked to sleep.

"Is he dead," he heard his father mutter. Why was he such a screw up? Couldn't he even kill himself right?

"No! Oh Gods NO! Sweetheart," his mother sobbed as she felt the ice. He could feel her hand. Had he become ice?

"The boy's still breathing, Maddy. So what are we going to do with him?"

"Oh, my little boy! Why did this have to happen to us, Will? Why us," she continued to sob as she cradled the ice creature that was her son.

William Drake rocked back on his heels as if pondering the question. "We could reunite him with old Frosty," he leered in a half joke. His wife's bawling became incessantly loud, "Oh for God's sake, Maddy! I was just joking! We could send him to that school those boys told you about this afternoon. It's bad enough he's gay. We don't need the neighbors to know we're raising a god damned mutie."

Boys? What boys? He looked at his mother quizzically. Did some of his friends stop by the house this afternoon and she not tell him?

"But it's so far away. We've never sent him that far away for so long," his mother continued to wail as she clutched him closer.

"Maddy, kids go to yearlong boarding schools all the time and from what I've heard this Xavier guy tows the mark. It's a school for Them and he's One Of Them. They'll do better with him than we ever could," he could hear the sneer in his father's voice as the old man started off for parts unknown. Or, if he were being totally honest with himself, more than likely to parts very well known: his stash of bourbon.

So that was it. He was going to whatever this place was. His father's mind was made up and in this house his father's word was law. Oh well, at least they hadn't shot him.

"Oh Bobby, I don't care what you're father says. You're our little boy and I love you. And even if this is a point of no return for all of us I'll always welcome you home," Madeline Drake sighed as her son settled down and became flesh once more.

Her breath hitched as she caught sight of another addition to her son's mutated state. Eyes of chocolate had become sapphire and the former brunette was now a sandy blonde. The neighbors would be talking about this for a week.

xXxXxX

He shifted around in his seat for what had to be the dozenth time in the last half hour. The van transporting him to his new home was spacious but driving for the last four hours had left him a little claustrophobic. He had done everything he could think of to stave off the boredom including crossword puzzles and singing, rather off-key, along with the radio.

The driver was nice enough about the whole thing. And truthfully he wondered what kind of school this Xavier guy ran if he let one student, who was just barely old enough to drive, travel several states to pick up another. The brunette blew his bangs out of his eyes and scanned the area. His piercing blue eyes were unnaturally bright and Bobby wondered if they had always been that color or if they had changed, like his own, with his mutation.

"You should have asked him last night," he mentally chided himself.

The other student, he was pretty sure the boy had called himself Henry, had shown up late in the afternoon the day before after driving all day on the road. His mother had been enamored with the politeness of the young man and insisted that surely the professor wouldn't mind if he stayed the night. They could leave first thing in the morning well fed and well rested.

Bobby snickered silently to himself. He had never seen someone so happy to eat his mother's cooking. Henry, and yeah he was almost positive the boy's name was Henry now, had explained that they didn't have a cook at the Institute and that he and the other two boys made their own meals. Apparently none of them were very good cooks. So a home-cooked meal by someone who knew what she was doing was a real treat.

He silently wondered if his mother would have tried to keep them both if Henry had let her. An embarrassed flush crept over his cheek as more of the previous evening's events played out in his mind's eye. His mother had caught him admiring the older boy and had given him the dreaded knowing mother look before launching into her spiel asking how the institute dealt with those of unusual preferences. The look on his father's face when Henry had calmly explained that most Homo Superiors were indeed bisexual was well worth the dirty looks they had received for the rest of the night.

"Hey kid."

Well, this was new. Henry had come off as being rather shy and all of their conversation the previous day had to be initiated by someone else.

"My name is Bobby," he smacked himself mentally as soon as the words flowed from his mouth. This guy was going to be his house-mate for the rest of high school and most of college. The last thing he wanted to do was get off on the wrong foot.

"Bobby," he relaxed as the older boy grinned at him and favored him with a knowing look, "God I remember being your age and hating when everyone called me kid."

"You're not that much older than me," the younger of the two mutants quipped as he readjusted himself in his seat to get a better look at Henry.

"I'll be seventeen in a few months," one hand left the wheel to tousle Bobby's hair, "and to a thirteen year old seventeen is ancient."

Bobby ducked playfully to avoid the hand. No one could ever say Robert Drake was a chicken. He had done a lot of things in his short lifetime that most teenagers would never try. Cliff-diving into the pond at Old Man's Cave had been a favorite past-time of his. The water had varied so that missing his target would have resulted in some rather unpleasant consequences. He liked to push boundaries.

Henry had left his side unguarded when he had attempting to tousle his passenger's hair and Bobby took advantage of the opening. With more speed than his lithe body should have been capable of he unbuckled his seat-belt and snuggled next to the unprotected side. Henry was big and warm and comforting and, if he was being honest, reminded him of that giant teddy bear his grandparents had given him when he was little. The same bear he was smuggling into Xavier's in a box marked books.

"Seventeen isn't ancient. My first boyfriend was a few days from turning eighteen when we started going out. I thought my mother was going to die when she caught us making out on the couch," he smiled that little self-assuring smile that he always wore when he was trying to convince himself he hadn't been wrong to date his former baby-sitter.

"Are you familiar with the term jail bait," Henry laughed as he tried to dislodge the clinging creature and put both hands back on the wheel.

Bobby moved slightly, just enough to avoid making his driver wreck. The last thing he wanted was to call home and explain to his mother that they never made it because he'd been flirting with the driver and caused an accident.

xXxXxX

The van pulled off the turnpike and into a quiet residential town. Nice suburban neighborhoods, first class schools, houses straight out of "Lifestyles of the rich and famous". He craned his neck as they passed one house and expected to see Robin Leech taking a tour of the grounds. What kind of place was this Xavier guy running if he could afford to live in a swanky place like this and house several young mutants?

His eyes widened to an impossible measurement as they entered the Institute's property. Henry had told him the place was big, not that it was a mansion! Bobby wasn't the best at school work but accounting was in his blood. He appraised the grounds with the keen eye he'd inherited from his father. At least two acres separated them from the wrought iron gate and the mansion's front steps. Taking in the dimensions of the front wall and the side property he'd seen he was willing to bet the entire grounds took up no less than fifty square acres.

The house loomed ahead of them, ancient and imposing. Here was the proof that the last twenty-four hours weren't just some bad dream he'd conjured up after eating his aunt Sheryl's peanut butter and chocolate ice cream pizza surprise. He really was a mutant, his parents had truly abandoned him to the mercy of a man they hadn't even met, and he was really going to go to school here. The sign that hung over the ornate stair case didn't help much in the matter. "Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters: Higher Education Through Greater Understanding" spelled out in handsome, hand-painted, calligraphy. How was he supposed to live up to the standards of a place like this?

"Impressive, huh," Henry smiled warmly at him as they came to a stop directly in front of the stairs, "Don't worry about it, Iceman, this place isn't as scary as it looks. It took all of us awhile to get used to it."

He let the strange nickname slide and simply clutched the backpack, that had been sitting in his lap the entire trip, a little tighter as he slid out the door, "Thanks, Henry."

"Call me Hank. Henry's what my parents call me," the brunette grinned impishly, enough like the fabled Cheshire cat to make Bobby nervous. The young blonde looked around for the source of the grin and found himself the center of the attention. Before he could question Henry's motives the older boy leaped gracefully over the van in two bounds and landed briefly before Bobby, balanced carefully on those oversized hands. A quick flip served to righten him and sling Bobby over his shoulder in one fluid motion.

The younger mutant clung tightly as his ride bounded up the steps with all the grace of a charging gorilla. He blushed as they rushed through the living room. Two boys, he was guessing they were the Scott and Warren Hank had talked about, gawked from their spot on an overstuffed ouch at the scene he and Hank were causing.

The boy with the ruby sunglasses looked upset at the spectacle and opened his mouth in a way Bobby had previously only seen on teachers and parents. His forth coming rant died upon its birth as the boy wearing a strange, white, cape sitting next to him jumped up on the back of the couch and gave a rebel yell.

"Ride 'em cowboy," the blonde boy yipped as Hank passed close to the couch. Much to Bobby's dismay this seemed to encourage the older boy to put on a bit more of a show.

He was quite convinced, after the act was finally over, that Hank must have had some sort of acrobatics training. He had been forced to copy the attitudes of a remora as Hank jumped around the room in sheer abandonment. He went clear over the couch, causing sunglasses boy to swear violently at him. Ran around the room in that strange gorilla walk, three limbs on the floor and the fourth steadying the clinging Bobby. Charged up the indoor staircase and then flew off the railing and caught hold of the chandelier in the middle of the room, dropping from it into a perfect handstand on the floor. Finally bowing into a perfect gentleman's bow, never once coming close to dropping his passenger.

"Nice going, Beast. You could have dropped him," sunglasses boy was not happy, not happy at all. The blond next to him chuckled and Bobby's eyes widened as his white "cape" gently fluttered open and stretched. The large wings, Bobby blinked once more to confirm the fact that they were indeed wings, settled back down to their spot on their owner's shoulder. He began to preen the feathers as sunglasses glared at him, "And you Angel! I expect better of both of you since you're senior students at this school in comparison to Bobby. We're older than him by a good year at least. It's our duty as the older students and surrogate big brothers to set the proper example for the decorum of the hallowed halls of this Institute. Am I making myself clear or would you both like extra time in the danger room this week to help reinforce the lesson?"

"Chill, Cyclops, before you birth a litter," Angel snickered as he wrapped a wing around sunglasses' body. The ice mutant's eyes turned to saucers as the angel on the couch leaned in to nuzzle and kiss the other boy's neck, "You're always so tense and leaderly. You need to chill out. Beast is always careful when he does that to us. What makes you think he'd be any less so with the new kid?"

"What you need," those golden eyebrows waggled suggestively, "Is to head upstairs with me for some nice down time in the hot tub without the swimming goggles."

To Hank's amusement, Bobby was blushing a shade completely unknown on non-fire mutants. The Angel looked over and grinned mischievously, winking at Hank, "I'm Warren Worthington, they call me Angel if you couldn't tell. This," he nuzzled Cyclops, "Is Cyclops, also known as Scott Summers. I see you've already met Beast.....Umm...."

"Iceman," Hank supplied helpfully as Bobby's eyebrows shot up, "Or Robert Drake.

Bobby grinned impishly, "Call me Bobby, only my parents call me Robert."

"Et tu, sweet winter sylph? Alas, thou hast wounded mine beastly heart by thy cruel, uncaring arrow. Away, away from thee I must go, for it would be a dishonor to release my hold on this mortal coil in front of such a Hellenistic beauty," the broad mutant collapsed into a fit of obviously faked, wracking sobs, "Alack, I am but the humble tailor, Bottom, under Puck's spell. Now felled by Titania, who scorns me after the nectar's glamour fades."

Scott and Warren shook their heads and chose to ignore the spectacle their larger comrade was causing. After a few gentle, and some not so gentle, nudges the visored boy followed the angel up the staircase. Beast sat up, quite content with himself, and blew a raspberry in their general direction.

Bobby giggled merrily. These boys readily accepted him. They were to be his friends; his brothers in arms; and, he snuck a look at Hank who was busy trying to juggle Bobby's suitcases, maybe more. He had finally gone past the point of no return; he had finally found a home. 


End file.
